On the following day we heard, at first indistinctly, toward the front of the column continued cheering. Following on, it grew louder and louder. We reached the foot of a long ascent, from the summit of which the shout went up, but were at a loss to know what called it forth. Arriving there, there loomed up before us the old Blue Ridge, and we, too, joined in the chorus. Moving on with renewed life, the continued greeting of those following was heard as eye after eye took in its familiar face. We had thought that the love for these old mountains was peculiar to us who had grown up among them; but the cheer of the Creoles who had been with us under Jackson was as hearty as our own.
We passed through Little Washington, thence by Chester Gap to Front Royal, the first of our old battlegrounds in the Valley, having left Longstreet's and Hill's corps on the east side of the mountain. At Winchester, as usual, was a force of the enemy under our former acquaintance, General Milroy. Without interruption we were soon in his vicinity. Nearly two days were consumed in feeling his strength and position. Our battery was posted on a commanding hill north of the town, the top of which was already furrowed with solid shot and shells to familiarize the enemy with its range. Our battery now consisted of two twenty-pound Parrott, and two brand-new English Blakeley guns, to one of which I belonged. And a singular coincidence it was that in putting in the first charge my gun was choked, the same thing having occurred on the same field a year before, being the only times it happened during the war. I went immediately to the third piece and took the place of No. 1.
The battle had now begun, the enemy firing at us from a strongly fortified fort near the town. Their target practice was no criterion of their shooting when being shot at, as not one of us was even wounded. While the battle was in progress we had a repetition of the race at Fredericksburg when there dashed from the Federal fort three artillery horses, which came at full speed over the mile between us, appearing and disappearing from view. On reaching the battery they were caught, and one of them, which we named "Milroy," was driven by James Lewis at the wheel of my gun, and restored with "Sedgwick" to his old associates at Appomattox.